


Customer Service

by petrodobreva



Series: Retail David AU [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Retail, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, clothing has power, customer service is a mindfuck, just a little something i put together and thought was real cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrodobreva/pseuds/petrodobreva
Summary: David is a sales representative-slash-personal stylist at a department store. Patrick is a clueless customer.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Retail David AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923736
Comments: 60
Kudos: 288





	Customer Service

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leopxld_fitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopxld_fitz/gifts).



> Prompt from @leopxld-fitz on Tumblr: hello i'm here to humbly request the david works at a men's clothing store + patrick is a clueless customer au 👀

“Are you guys up for drinks after closing?” David’s leaning on the counter in the men’s section at Bloomfield’s, giving his best doe eyes to Antonio and Tammy. Staff is low, so all three of them are working a double shift. And there’s nothing David likes more after a double shift, when his feet are aching and he’s been on his best behavior all day, than getting sloshed.

Antonio looks at the little clock in the corner of his screen. “It’s not even noon yet.”

Tammy, bless her, ignores him. “Oooh,” she says. “Can we go back to that karaoke place?”

David inhales sharply in his excitement. “Oh my god, that’s the best idea you’ve ever had!”

“I know, right?” She offers her hand for a high-five and he meets her enthusiastically.

“That place was _such_ a good find. It’s really hard to find quality karaoke these days.”

“That place sucked,” Antonio says, “you only liked it because they had the entire Mariah Carey catalogue. But they had basically nothing else.”

“You’re just mad because I wouldn’t let you do ‘Sweet Caroline.’”

“So what if I am?”

“I was saving you from yourself. Nobody wanted to hear that.”

Antonio just rolls his eyes. David ignores him. Who cares if Antonio wants to come, anyway? If he’s going to be a downer, he might as well stay home.

“Incoming,” Tammy murmurs, their usual signal for an approaching customer. “This one’s yours, baby.”

David turns his head and clocks the approach of the customer in question, an innocuous-looking white guy about his age. He puts on his customer service smile and gets into his customer service stance. A display of teeth and open shoulders.

He pushes himself away from the check-out counter and says, “Good morning. How are you today?”

During training (and a few times since), David was instructed not to ask the customer “what he’s looking for” because it’s too pushy, or makes the interaction too transactional. David thinks it’s stupid. It _is_ transactional. Everybody knows it. Might as well cut to the chase.

“Hi, um, yeah,” says the customer. David notices the nerves. “I’m looking for a suit?”

He’s not supposed to ask, because it could potentially come off as insulting, but David knows a newbie when he sees one. “Okay sure. Have you ever been here before?”

The customer shakes his head. “Not for myself ever. I came in a couple of times with my ex-g—” the customer cuts himself off and suddenly, David’s paying attention in earnest. “With my ex.”

“Well, then, allow me to officially welcome you to Bloomfield’s. You’ve come to the right place.” David knows what to do with nerves. Soften his voice, speak slowly, make warm eye contact, display as little enthusiasm as possible. He extends a hand, “I’m David.”

His tone seems to work because the man smiles broadly, revealing a set of very straight teeth, and takes his hand. “Patrick.”

“Patrick,” David repeats his name, also part of the training. _People like it when you show you heard their names._ “So, we’ve got a few options here. We have off-the-rack, tailored off-the-rack, and you’re at our flagship store, so we also have bespoke outfitting.”

“I’m not really sure what that is,” Patrick says. It could come off as defensive, but when David checks, Patrick’s expression is still warm, somewhat amused.

David can’t help it; he rolls his eyes. “Let’s start with what you need the suit for?” He says it like a question. Customer service really drills the upspeak into you.

“My cousin’s wedding,” says Patrick. “It’s in a month.”

“I’m impressed,” says David. “You didn’t leave it until the last minute.”

“Not really my style, David.”

And maybe it’s because customers don’t usually remember his name, or maybe it’s because of the way this guy is filling out his Levi’s, but at that moment, David notices that as normal-looking as this guy is, he is _cute_.

He does his best to get it together. Cute customers always knock him right off his game. And this customer is _unexpectedly_ attractive, which is even more destabilizing. “Okay.”

David tries to grasp for the next question to keep the conversation moving and get him to the correct sales floor area, but his thoughts are all scattered.

Patrick saves him. “The invitation says the dress code is ‘mountain formal.’”

David snorts. “Meaning?”

Patrick crosses his arms across his chest, and says, “I was hoping you could tell me.”

Right. Right, that’s his job. He’s a sales representative-slash-personal stylist. At the very least, he’s supposed to be able to interpret obscure wedding dress codes. Even if it is something as ridiculous as _mountain formal_. He pretends like he didn’t just stumble all over himself and starts walking toward a corner of the store with a few racks of suits. Patrick doesn’t know this, but it’s where a lot of the suits from last year are kept, the ones that haven’t been marked down yet (but probably will be soon). “Well, formal means you should wear something dark. A blue or a black. It also means a necktie. By mountain, I’m guessing that’s mostly a warning for the ladies to wear comfortable shoes and to be prepared for unpredictable weather.”

“That sounds right,” says Patrick, keeping in step with him. “I mean, it’ll be October in Canada on a mountaintop.”

David stops at a rack of suit jackets and turns to look at Patrick. “So, are we thinking blue or black?”

“I’m thinking blue,” says Patrick. “I’m not in the bridal party or anything, so I think black might be a bit much.”

He’s wearing a blue Henley with a bright white undershirt right now. “Blue suits you,” says David. He hopes it comes off as a perfectly normal thing to say—despite the prolonged eye contact that’s currently happening. He breaks it by saying, “Come on, let’s get your measurements.”

A few minutes later, Patrick is standing on the platform in the dressing alcove and David has his tape measure up the outside of one of Patrick’s legs. He has to do the inseam next and he’s not looking forward to it.

“So, tell me about this wedding,” David tries. It’s a good conversation starter. A customer could take it anywhere.

Patrick sighs deeply and David knows there’s a story there. “Nothing really to tell. My cousin’s getting married. That’ll make his the eleventh marriage of all my first-cousins. He and I aren’t so close that I’m a groomsman, but we’re close enough that I was at the bachelor party.”

David doesn’t think any of that information is the source of the deep sigh, but he doesn’t know where to poke to find out. “That’s nice,” he says, shifting to do the inseam quickly. “Big family.”

“Yeah, huge,” Patrick says, and David stands up to measure his broad shoulders. “I’m an only child, though.”

David chuckles. “Lucky.”

“I take it you have siblings?” Patrick turns his head to look at David behind him.

“Yes. One sister. And she’s plenty,” says David. “No cousins, really—that I’m close with, anyway.”

Patrick’s still looking at him. “No?”

David moves the tape measure to Patrick’s arm, and Patrick’s gaze moves back to look ahead of him. “Nope. It’s pretty much always been the four of us. And barely that. I’m a black sheep among black sheep, I guess.”

“A black sheep, huh?”

_Keep the focus on the customer_ , says the retail-trainer voice in his head. David waves a hand as if to brush the topic away. “I want to know more about this mountain wedding. Whose idea was that?”

Patrick smiles. “Oh, I’m sure they were in pretty equal agreement about it. We’re a pretty outdoorsy family, and so is she.”

David shudders at the implications. “So, like, hiking and biking and…”

“Camping,” Patrick finishes for him. “The morning after the wedding, we’re all going to go hang out at the lake. Maybe go kayaking or fishing.”

“Sounds fun!” David tries to sound sincere, but he knows it’s not fooling anybody. He’s in front of Patrick now, measuring the stretch of his chest.

“Not into camping, David?”

* * *

Almost an hour later, there’s a full rack of rejected suits in the dressing room alcove. Patrick is staring at himself in the mirror, wearing the last suit David has for him to try on, expressionless.

“What’s wrong with the Hugo Boss? I liked that one.”

“Was that the one with that was kind of shiny?”

“Yes, it has a bit of a sheen.” David pulls it out to demonstrate. “But I don’t think it’s too much.”

Patrick nods. “It did fit pretty well.”

“Agreed. You won’t need much tailoring. Just a seam here or there.” He looks at Patrick’s face, and he’s still looking dejected. He tried on eight suits, most of which looked great, but there was no reaction from Patrick whatsoever. “Can I ask you a question?”

David hopes he’s not overstepping but is comforted when Patrick’s shoulders sag and he says, “Please do.”

“If this is the eleventh of your cousins’ weddings, that means you’ve been to at least that many. Don’t you already have a good enough suit? Why do you need a new one?”

Patrick sighs again, this time even deeper. He steps off the platform and walks over to sit in one of the armchairs. He leans forward and puts his head in his hands. David does _not_ like where this is going. “Oh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Patrick sits up. “No it’s okay, it’s just…it’s stupid.”

David walks over to Patrick and crouches in front of Patrick. He’s not supposed to sit in the other chair. It’s for customers only.

“It’s okay if it’s stupid. Tell me.”

“It’s just that… _I_ was supposed to be the eleventh cousin getting married.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” says Patrick. “And I wasn’t, because I broke up with my fiancée eight months ago, only two months before our intended wedding.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, and it took me a while to figure out why I wanted to break up with her.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. It turns out I’m somewhat…completely….gay.”

_Oh. Oh!_ “Oh.”

“Yeah, I came out on social media last week.”

Selfishly, David is unreasonably pleased with this information. As a member of “the community,” David knows what he’s _supposed_ to do. Professionally, he can work with this.

“So, this wedding is simultaneously the event that’s going to remind everybody of the breakup _and_ it’s your coming out party.”

“No pressure or anything.” Patrick falls back into the chair. “I don’t know. I just wanted to look good, you know? You’re right, I have plenty of suits. And they’re all fine. And they’re all blue or black.”

David stands. “Well, I know what to do.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” David offers his hand, and Patrick takes it, so David pulls him out of his seat. “I’m very good at my job. It’s called _the art of accessorizing_.”

Patrick chuckles. “So, I’m not getting a new suit today?”

“Incorrect. You are absolutely getting a new suit today.” He pulls out the Hugo Boss, walks Patrick out of the dressing alcove, and places it on his ‘reserved’ rack. “It looks fabulous on you. And we’re going to get it tailored so that you’re snatched for the gods.” He knows he’s laying on the slang a little thick, but he’s dealing with a baby gay here, it’s basically a rite of passage. He knows it works because Patrick blushes.

Then, he pulls Patrick by the hand. It’s a faux pas. He knows it is, but Patrick, after some initial pulling back, lets David lead him to the other side of the store. David looks back at Patrick and squeezes his hand. Patrick squeezes back.

He brings Patrick to a table of pocket squares and has him pick out a few. “Don’t think, just grab,” he instructs.

Then, he brings him to a display of ties and points out some of the most adventurous from Gucci, Ermenegildo Zegna, Kiton, and Stefano Ricci. “Shoes?” He asks, and Patrick shrugs, so he leads him there too. His instructions are to, under no uncertain terms, have fun. “Even if it’s out of your price range, at least you’ll get to try it.” One of the biggest hurdles to overcome with a new customer is helping them feel less intimidated by the merchandise.

While going through a bunch of socks, David catches Patrick’s eyes wandering to the other side of the aisle. David follows his gaze. It’s a rack of shirts.

“You see something you like?”

Patrick shrugs, and that just won’t do.

“Go take a look.”

Patrick hesitates and then seems to shake himself out of it. He drops the pair of socks he was looking at and walks over to the rack of shirts.

David does his best not to watch, his instincts telling him that Patrick might still be easily spooked. Instead, he adds a few pairs of socks to one of the bags they’re using to cart their collection around.

When Patrick comes back, he’s holding up a light blue button-up with a graphic cream floral pattern. It’s Ted Baker.

“Very nice,” says David.

“Yeah?” says Patrick, bashfully.

“Definitely.” David was going to suggest that they look at belts next, but he has a feeling they’re almost done. “Let’s go try some of this stuff on, shall we?”

Patrick puts on the suit, and he tries on some shoes and tries some pocket squares and ties. He pulls out some socks, and holds them up against his ankles, in a heroic show of cooperation and open-mindedness.

“Okay, let’s try on the shirt!”

“Oh, I don’t know…” says Patrick.

“What? Are you getting cold feet?”

“Oh, it’s just, I don’t know if I’ll like it.”

That doesn’t fool David for one moment. “But you want to like it, and you’re afraid of what will happen if you don’t.”

Patrick sighs. “Maybe.”

“Listen, there are a million things about this shirt that could be wrong for you. The fit might not work, it might not be the right coloring, it may not work with the suit…” David walks over to Patrick and puts his hand on his bicep. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not going to take us in the right direction, okay?”

Patrick sighs again, in relief this time. “Yeah. Okay.”

Patrick looks incredible in the shirt.

His posture has straightened, and there’s a lightness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He’s beaming at himself in the mirror. And the shirt looks great with the suit, too.

“I’m thinking no tie,” says David. Patrick’s got the top two buttons unbuttoned, revealing a length of clear smooth skin and it’s making David’s mouth water.

“No tie?”

David shakes his head. “No tie, but if you tell anyone I gave you that advice for a formal wedding, I will personally come after you.”

Patrick chuckles. “I’d like to see that.” He blushes again, and it makes something inside of David’s chest contract.

Patrick’s looking at himself again, and he looks much stronger, much more self-assured than when he first came in. David knows the feeling. The power of clothing, of armoring your body with something beautiful, something that tells the world just enough of the story inside yourself.

David walks up to Patrick and slides the jacket off his shoulders. “Let me show you…” David hangs the jacket up and moves to be in front of Patrick. He takes his left hand and a spark of something moves up his arm so he has to suppress a shiver. He flips up one of the cuffs, to reveal a different floral pattern underneath. “I love this detail,” he says. “After a while, when everybody’s all tired and sweaty from dancing, you can get rid of the jacket and show off your cuffs.”

“I like them,” says Patrick, looking at David.

David backs away and points at Patrick from head to toe. “We are getting all of this tailored.”

“We are?”

“Yes, that’s why you’ve come to me a month in advance.”

Patrick smiles. “That’s true.”

George, one of the store’s junior tailors comes in and pins Patrick up. He cinches in the waist of the shirt so it will match the tightness in Patrick’s shoulders. Patrick looks amused but doesn’t ask him to change it. David also makes him get a new pair of brown leather dress shoes. “A new suit deserves new shoes,” he says. It’s an old sales trick of his, but he also means it.

When they’re at the register, back at the counter where they first greeted one another, Patrick says, “Thank you so much, David. You’ve been incredible.”

“You’re very welcome. I had a lot of fun.” And he’s telling the truth.

“I’m so sorry you have to put all that stuff back,” Patrick says, handing David his credit card. “Can I help you with it?”

_Ha! Can you imagine? He would definitely get in trouble for letting a customer help with clean-up._ “Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ll make Antonio help me. We’ll get it done way faster without your bumbling inexperience.”

Patrick raises an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, but I would hardly call it bumbling.”

“I’m sorry, were you anything but completely helpless when you got here?” David teases.

Patrick smiles warmly. “It’s true.”

David gives him the receipt, fills out his profile for the tailor, and gives him the predicted completion date.

“And just let me, or anybody else who works here, know if you need anything.”

Patrick takes the paper from David, and it looks like he’s going to say something. David waits, hopeful.

Instead, he drops his hand and says, “I hope you get a good commission.”

It’s what a lot of friendly, civic-minded customers say, so David smiles. “Thank you. I won’t. But I had fun. So, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

It’s the kind of awkward moment that’s difficult to recover from, but the end of these interactions, after money’s been exchanged, always are.

“See you around, David,” Patrick says, and then backs away, keeping eye contact for a bit longer, before turning to leave.

“It was nice to meet you, Patrick,” David calls after him. Which is a perfectly respectable way to say good-bye to a customer. Unfortunately.

When Patrick is out of sight, David turns and goes back to the men’s dressing room. They really did make quite a mess. He has a bunch of suits, socks, shoes, ties, and pocket squares to return. He starts with the suits. He’ll make Antonio put the shoes away, and the smaller accessories won’t take long.

Tammy comes up to him while he’s reorganizing the pocket squares. “Antonio got off his high horse and said he’ll come to the bar with us. And Amy said she wants to come too.”

“Oh, so now it’s a party?” David says with satisfaction. “I’m gonna invite Stevie, too.”

Tammy shrugs. “Just keep her away from the polar bear shots this time.” Last time Stevie went out with him and his coworkers, she got so wasted she tried to make out with Antonio, and when that didn’t go over well, she tried to make out with Tammy.

David nods with sincerity. “Obviously.”

“David?”

He turns around at the sound of his name, and sees Patrick, standing in the middle of the department store walkway, waiting for him.

David makes eye contact and is rewarded with a smile. This time, it’s not bashful or hesitant, but knowing. Maybe even a little cocky.

He looks over at Tammy, whose eyebrows are raised in a question. He waves her off and walks up to Patrick, with whom he maintains a professional distance.

“Hi, Patrick. What can I help you with?”

Patrick then steps forward, entering David’s space—eliminating said professional distance.

“Hi, David. I was wondering if you would like to go out with me tonight.”

“Tonight?” The beating of David’s heart accelerates. His breath catches in his throat.

“What time do you get off?”

“Store closes at 9:00. I should be done by 10:00.”

“Drinks then?”

David turns around, to find Tammy a few sections away.

“Tammy!” He calls. “I’m not going to be available for drinks with you tonight, after all!”

“Are you serious?” she yells.

He turns back to Patrick. “Drinks sound really good.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to Fitz, obviously, for giving me the idea. I hope you like it. It's also dedicated to my husband, who loves Ted Baker and would love [Patrick's shirt.](https://www.tedbaker.com/us/Mens/Clothing/Shirts/VILLUN-LS-Floral-Shirt-Light-Blue/p/245263-LT-BLUE)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos always welcome!


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